Chapter 29 — Sacrificed by the Heir: Reborn as Yue Zhaoyue to Avenge Sixteen Years of Injustice

Just as I was about to step out of the study, hurried footsteps echoed from behind.

"Yue Zhaoyue."

I froze. That voice was one I had heard for sixteen years. Sometimes it was gentle, coaxing me to take my medicine; other times, it was reprimanding me for not yielding to my elder sister; and at times, it was cold and detached, warning me not to shame the Shen family. But today, that voice held only panic. I slowly turned around. Lady Shen stood in the center of the courtyard. Having not seen her for a few days, she seemed to have aged a decade. Her temples were streaked with gray, and deep wrinkles lined the corners of her eyes. The garments she had always kept impeccable were now crumpled, and her hands were still stained with the ink she had used to sign the confiscation of the estate. She stared at me for a long time, her eyes rimmed with red.

"Yue Zhaoyue."

I answered calmly, "Lady Shen."

Those three words alone made her sway. In the past, no matter how much injustice I suffered, I had always called her Mother. I used to think that if I only called her that enough times, one day she would truly see me as her daughter. But today, I understood. Some names are called with sincerity from one side, while the other never truly listens. She walked slowly toward me, stopping just a few paces away. She dared not come any closer, for she knew that if she took one more step, I would retreat. She pressed her lips together, struggling to hold back her tears.

"Yue Zhaoyue."

"No. Yue Zhaoyue."

I know, I no longer have the qualification to address you as I once did. I only...

Her voice choked. "I only want to beg you for one thing."

I did not answer. She looked at me, and her tears finally fell.

"Can you... call me Mother one last time?"

The courtyard fell into an uncanny silence. Even the bailiffs inventorying the assets stopped their work instinctively. Pure Joy, standing behind me, saw her eyes redden with indignation. She knew that in the past, this very woman had repeatedly told her young mistress to be patient. She was the one who had said, "You are the younger sister; you must yield to your elder sister." She was the one who said, "Yuntang has wandered for many years; what is the harm in you suffering a little?" And she was the one who had silently watched as I was forced to drink the draught that took my voice. She did not give the order, but she did not prevent it either. Sometimes, silence is crueler than a slap. I looked at the woman before me. In my memories, she had held me as I slept when I was a child. She had sewn my winter clothes with her own hands and laughed as she promised to take me to see the lantern festival. But all those memories halted the day Shen Yuntang returned. From that day on, I was no longer a daughter. I was merely someone who should be sensible, someone who should yield, someone who should endure, someone who should sacrifice. I took a soft breath, my voice faint.

"Lady Shen. You once were my mother."

Her tears fell faster. I looked straight into her eyes.

"But you chose with your own hands to stop being my mother."

She shook her head tremblingly. "No, that is not so. I only wanted... I only wanted both of you to be well."

I smiled, a thin, shallow smile. "Did you truly want us both to be well? If it had been Shen Yuntang who was drugged with the aphrodisiac that day, would you have told her to be patient? Would you have told her not to pursue justice for fear of shaming the Shen family?"

She bowed her head, unable to utter a word.

"Would you have let her drink the silencing draught?"

Her shoulders shook violently. I knew she could not answer, for everyone knew the truth. She would not. If the one suffering were Shen Yuntang, the entire Shen family would have turned the capital upside down to demand justice. Because it was I who was harmed, everyone advised me to be sensible. I closed my eyes.

"For sixteen years, I called you Mother tens of thousands of times. Every single time, it was from the heart. But each time you had to choose between me and Shen Yuntang, you chose her. Today, I do not blame you anymore, nor do I hate you. But I no longer wish to call you that."

As the final words left my lips, Lady Shen seemed to lose all her strength. She collapsed onto the stone floor, burying her face in her hands and sobbing brokenly. Her cries no longer held the dignity of a mistress of the house; they were simply the cries of a mother. Yet, it was too late. At that moment, the clanking of iron chains rang out from behind. Shen Yuntang was being led out of the rear courtyard. Her hair was disheveled, her face pale, and iron shackles still locked her wrists. The moment she caught sight of Lady Shen, she lunged forward.

"Mother! Save me! I do not want to be sent to the Ministry of Justice! I did not do it! I truly did not!"

She clung to Lady Shen’s skirts, crying until her voice went hoarse. But this time, Lady Shen did not embrace her daughter. She merely stared at her biological child in silence. In her gaze, there was no longer any doting affection—only exhaustion and despair. Slowly, she pried Shen Yuntang's fingers from her hem, her voice raspy.

"Enough. Do not call me that anymore. If you had never existed... perhaps... perhaps I would not have lost Yue Zhaoyue."

Shen Yuntang stood stunned, unable to believe that the woman who had always defended her would utter such words. But the lady did not look at her again.